Sanctum
by ourladyofmelancholy
Summary: Seven, a victim of human experimentation, has lived her life as a tool. Forced into interacting with the members of the BAU, Seven for the first time has a reason to fight back.
1. Chapter 1

Sanctum

"Now boarding for Washington, D.C.!" the intercom announced into the dull roar of conversation and wind in the tunnels of the train station.

"Don't forget Amie's recital tonight – "

"You wanted low-fat, right? Oh, whole, good thing I asked – "

"Train's boarding now, I'll be there as soon as I can – "

"Be safe, love you – "

Seven resisted allowing a smile to tug at her lips. She always eavesdropped on other people's conversations, catching a glimpse into normalcy. She turned a page in the small, worn poetry book she was reading. The tenseness in her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit.

A tall, thin man flipping intensely through a notebook sat down on the bench opposite her. She glanced at his files and the words 'profile' and 'skin' stood out to her. A man stomped by, smelling of cheap beer, and he stopped in front of Seven and the tenseness was back in her shoulders.

"Hey," he growled and Seven looked up from her book, irritated. "My car broke down and I need cash for a tow. Think you can help me out?"

"I don't have any cash. Sorry," Seven replied, attempting to go back to her book.

"What? Lil' Virginia Tech girl can't be bothered to help out some hick? Huh?" the man slurred, trying to focus bloodshot eyes on Seven.

"I don't have any money on me," Seven repeated. "I can't help you."

"Where're you headed?"

Seven inwardly sighed. "Nowhere."

He bared yellow teeth in a rancid smile. "That so?"

The man on the bench was listening to them now, and Seven hoped he wouldn't intervene.

"S' that book?" he asked, making a grab for it.

Seven snatched it away from his grimy fingers. "It's mine. Leave me alone."

The man barked out a laugh. "Or what?"

"Or I will escort you out," the men sharing Seven's bench chimed in. rising to his feet and presenting a badge to the drunk man. "Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI."

Now that the man, Dr. Reid, was standing, it was hard to miss the pistol on his hip. The drunk man sneered at him, but lumbered away, spitting on the floor.

Seven smiled politely at the agent, not allowing her pulse to quicken. "Thank you."

"Of course," Dr. Reid replied, sitting back down. "Shocking how rude people can be."

Seven agreed and opened the yellowed paper of her little book, hoping the conversation would end.

"HEY! YOU!" a loud shout grabbed their attention.

Without looking at the agent, Seven swiftly stood and weaved through the crowd getting off an arriving train. The man shoved through the crowd after her, bellowing out a curse, but Seven had already slipped out of a utility door.

Only later when Seven had removed her pursuer's left thumb, (the right having been removed months prior by Seven herself) did she notice that she had dropped her little book in the escape from the station.

Seven was a criminal, of that there was no question. A thief, an assassin, a wallflower, a driver, a drug dealer, she was a matter of circumstance. Whatever they needed. She couldn't remember what life had been like before Osbourne and his acolytes got a hold of her. The short, lithe woman who Seven was now had been very young when she had been taken; she had barely begun to understand the world around her when it became cold, hopeless, and methodical. Experiment number seven. She never learned what happened to the six before her.

Osbourne, weeks after the station incident, sent Seven to Miami for surveillance and eventual assimilation into the local gangs there. Seven did what she had to and became a leopard of purple and green bruises, prowling alleyways and watching, waiting…

There were a lot of overlooked crimes in Miami; drunk college girls on vacation were snatched from the streets what seemed like every week and it wasn't unusual for sex workers to be found strangled and dumped into the midnight waters of the Atlantic. Since Seven had gotten the tiniest foothold in the city, these sorts of crimes no longer went unpunished.

Hitting your spouse now cost a thumb, sometimes more. Attempting to kidnap girls was worth two weeks in 'the cooler'. Touching kids was the costliest; all your fingernails, genitals, lips, eyelids and tongue. It was a public service, really.

Seven woke up early one morning to a text from a girl named Toni who worked at the same 'club' as Seven. Apparently, the FBI were in town.

A minor inconvenience. Easy enough to avoid. They were probably after the same sorts of people. Work went on. A woman whose sons were far too skinny and dotted in bruises and burns disappeared from the streets and the boys received a small backpack full of cash and tickets to fly to their relatives in the west. A man who enjoyed catching and torturing cats was found wandering the beach, mumbling about 'four eyes'. A hissing cat had been branded onto his forearm, a sear that would never go completely away.

The main front Seven hung around was a club called Cat's Eye. The girls who worked there were evidently unused to being treated well and they all liked Seven for her kindness. In turn, they were all eyes for Seven, whispering interesting bits of information to Seven. Toni overheard, and relayed to Seven, that a man who had recently moved into a nice condo had been following one of the girls around, but the boss wanted to wait and see if anything would happen because he was rich and would be missed in a sudden disappearance.

A week later, Marcella, a sweet, quiet girl who also worked at Cat's Eye was found mutilated behind a dumpster.

Rage got the better of her. Seven couldn't allow it to go unpunished. The other girls and the boss agreed. A sneaky, small girl named Eloise was dispatched to keep an eye open for an opportunity to snatch him up.

Two large men, Lock and Barrel, were sent to gather the vile man when an opportunity presented itself. Seven was anxious to meet him and paced the concrete basement of Cat's Eye, worrying behind her mask about the competence of the two men the boss had sent out. The fluorescent bulbs flickered with the beat from upstairs. One masked girl stood guard from each corner. They had been friends with Marcella. Everyone had been. The bastard had gutted Marcella while she had still lived. Wrapped her intestines around her throat and ignored her gargled pleas. He had removed her lower half and the cops hadn't even found the rest of her yet. He wouldn't be able to die for this. Dying was an escape, an end to his suffering. He would beg to die, and they would ignore him.

"They're bringing them down." Toni rasped from behind a panda mask.

"_Them_?" Seven repeated.

"Idiots," one of the other girls mumbled.

"Shut the fuck UP!" Lock roared from down the hall and the sound of striking flesh echoed into the room.

Lock and Barrel dragged two figures with sacks over their heads into the room and dumped them at Seven's feet.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Seven's voice disguiser chirped. "Although, this is one more than I had expected."

"Civilian got in the way," Lock grunted, nudging the smaller figure with his foot.

"Alright, We'll shout if we need you,"

They nodded and left. Toni jumped forward to rip the sack off the fat figure. There was the sweaty, piggish face of the man who had brutalized Marcella.

"Can you take mine off too? It's sort of stuffy," the thinner man asked.

Seven paused. There was something familiar about that voice. She reached down and tugged the hood off his head. Her heart sank.

It never occurred to her that she could be so unlucky as to run into the only FBI agent who knew what she looked like. Dr, Spencer Reid blinked up at her mask, curious more than afraid.

"He's a cop," Root, one of the girls, hissed.

"He's a federal agent," Seven corrected, reaching down to pull his badge from his pocket. "They didn't search him."

"How is Lady coming along with the file on this?" Seven asked, walking over to where the fat man lay.

"Austin Dixon, 46. Recently moved into 1480 Sugarpalm Drive," Dr. Reid chimed in.

Lady strode in, wearing sweatpants and a bunny mask.

"He stole my thunder, but he's right," Lady said, handing Seven a file. "They're also after him if you haven't guessed. Marcella wasn't his first."

Lady lashed out, kicking Dixon in the back and sending him crashing flat onto his face. His nose broke with a snap and he howled.

"FUCK YOU!" he screamed, and Toni ran up to land a hard kick in his ribs, making him cough blood onto the concrete floor.

Seven crouched down in front of Dixon, grabbing a fistful of his hair to force him to look up at her.

"This girl," Seven's altered voice chirped as she held up a picture of Marcella. "You killed her. Gutted her. They haven't even found her lower half yet."

Dixon gave her a bloody sneer. "Yeah and they never will – " Seven interrupted his bragging with a sock to his jaw and the sound of it breaking made Dr. Reid flinch.

"Give him to the boys in whatever condition you see fit," Seven spat. The other girls wanted his blood more than even she did, so she was satisfied knowing he would suffer. Toni and Root had been waiting for this, they jumped into action, digging their nails into his skin and mocking his moans as they dragged him away.

"Would the two of you sound the alarm? His friends will be here for him soon and we need to be long gone by the time they get here," Seven said, turning Dr. Reid's badge over in her hands. The two girls paused, startled, then hurried from the room.

"Dilaudid?" Seven asked after a brief silence.

Dr. Reid's head snapped up. "What?"

"You've got the marks on your arms, but your face isn't picked at," Seven replied. "It's a waste. Fight. Live."

"You're one to talk. Working at a front like this. Getting chased by gang members in train stations."

"… I was hoping you wouldn't remember me."

"I have an eidetic memory. Could you take these zip ties off of my wrists, please? They hurt."

Cautious, but sure Dr. Reid was too smart to try anything, she cut him loose.

"5 minutes," a voice in her earpiece warned

Seven paced over to the black ornate chair in the middle of the room.

"You can't have your killer back," Seven said. "But rest assured that he will face justice."

"You don't want a life like this. You long for freedom, I can see it in the poems you've visited and revisited," Dr. Reid said, very quickly as though someone might interrupt him. Seven heard tires screech overhead.

"Building's comp'd, Seven," Toni alerted her through the earpiece.

"They call you Seven?" Dr. Reid repeated. "Listen, Marcella's parents wont get closure if they never know what happened – "

"They know." Seven kicked open a hatch in the floor just behind the ornate chair. "I hope we don't run into each other again, Dr. Reid. Persevere."

With those words Seven stepped into the open hatch and it snapped shut behind her. She could hear his shout echo against the walls of the pipe as Seven slid far below the city. Seven cursed to herself as the pipe leveled out, depositing her into the storm drains. A three minute sprint brought her to a ladder she climbed to find Toni waiting in a car for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Seven knew that her time with the workers of Cat's Eye was over. She would be collected and taken to Osbourne where she would face punishment for revealing herself to the FBI. She knew what would happen if she tried to run, so when a man in a suit approached her in an empty convenience store, she went with him without a struggle.

Osbourne had taken Seven from her home when she was barely 5. Her parents, dutiful and protective, had tried to stop the men who broke in, but were no match for them. Seven had silently sobbed as she heard her mother screaming for mercy and the gunshots that followed and had stuffed her little fist in her mouth to keep quiet and flattened herself against the wall under her bed. The men dragged her out from under the bed just the same, put a bag over her small head, and tossed her in the back of a soundproof van.

Seven, 20 years later, didn't remember any of that. The memories of her youth, anything that didn't have to do with her training, were deemed unproductive and were removed. Seven's entire world had been her training, the sterile cold of the facility, and her missions.

Osbourne told her that she was distracted. That he expected her to be above childish attachments. Every word he spoke brought a new wave of agony; he had implanted an electronic device in her shoulder that would shock her at the touch of a button, and he used it liberally when punishing her. Three months later Seven saw the sun again and Osbourne was convinced he had done his best work yet on her.

Unsure where she was often, pale, bloody, and cold, Seven felt as though she were a ghost. The sunlight felt unnatural on her skin and everything was hazy. 6 months after she had been 'improved', a manila file was thrust into Seven's hands and she was told it was an elimination – no witnesses. On the plane to Virginia, Seven studied the photographs of the blonde woman. She looked familiar somehow…

The two subjects dispatched with her kept an eye on the woman's house for several days. The woman was most often at work, and discretion had been strongly advised, so for a long time they just watched. The blonde woman went for a walk one evening by herself, talking animatedly on her cellphone. The three experiments approached, alley cats to an unwary bird.

"I'll talk to Reid, if anyone knows more, he will," she was saying. She had a kind voice.

Her conversation was cut off when subject 63 snatched her phone out of her hand and crushed it underfoot. Before she could react, 63 struck her, hard, and she dropped. Seven paused, staring down at the fallen woman, her yellow blonde hair splayed starkly across the wet pavement.

Reid. This woman had been there when Reid was recovered in Miami. This woman was Jennifer Jareau. 63 raised his gun.

Disobey. Help. Save her.

Seven grabbed 63's arm, snapping it over her knee. He didn't cry out, just as they were trained, and the other subject paused in surprise.

Seven twisted 63's neck, snapping it as if it were a twig. Before the other subject could react, he had a bullet between his eyes.

Jennifer Jareau stirred and looked up at Seven's four eyed mask, no fear in her eyes.

"Sorry…" Seven's voice modulater chirped before she sprinted headlong into the forest.

Seven wasn't the first subject to go rouge. She was, however, the first to locate the tracking device in her forearm and dig it out with a sharp rock quickly enough to disappear from their radars.

Agony erupted in her shoulder, the electricity crawling through her veins like fire ants. She ran, despite the pain and the howling storm that had blown over. The device had to recharge, so after a few hours of forcing herself to keep trudging through the woods, the behavior adjuster shut off. Exhausted, sore, victorious, she slept in a pile of damp pine needles under an evergreen,

By sparing Agent Jareau, Seven had painted a target upon the BAU members. Seven knew she couldn't keep them out of Osbourne's clutches forever. She also knew, that at some point, she would die in her quest to protect them. Facial prosthetics, stolen cash, cheap motels, Follow, watch, stay back.

It was amazing that anyone in the BAU had survived this long; the six of them seemed to have no natural feelings of self-preservation and ran full speed at any monster they faced. Seven was always ready, watching like a worried hawk through the scope of her sniper rifle.

Miraculously, the BAU were often victorious in the end. Rescuing and protecting where they could and bringing the guilty to justice. Agent Jareau had told her team about Seven and they all wondered where she could be. Agent Morgan soon had an answer for them.

Seven was unsure if the man who pulled a gun on Agent Morgan was one of Osbourne's subjects in disguise or just a violent drunk, but he died in blood either way. Dr. Reid's team had traveled to Kentucky to investigate a series of rapes in a small town and Agent Morgan foolishly went to check on a subject by himself after a late night epiphany. Seven's shoulder throbbed and worry gnawed at her stomach, pushing her after him, so she followed.

Agent Morgan was lucky she had; the tootheless man had surprised him by leaping out of a bush with a shot gun. Seven of course had been quicker. The shot from her rifle roared like a beast from a forgotten forest and the tootless man dropped.

Seven was gone before he hit the dirt, tearing into the surrounding woods on a stolen motorcycle. She had seen it in the agent's eyes – he had looked death in the face and recognized her.

The team didn't have a case for a while after that, so Seven was able to keep her distance for a time. Three of them had interactions with her now. She was close, far too close, but she knew she would end up here.

"I don't like this," they would say to each other. "Who is she? What does she want?"

"Freedom," Reid once answered in a hollow voice.

Dr. Reid's dilaudid use worsened and when it began to affect his ability to work and impaired his mood, Seven decided it was time to intervene.

Being much bolder than was wise, Seven broke into the BAU and hid in the vents above the men's bathroom on the second floor. If Dr. Reid's habit was becoming as bad as Seven feared, he would likely come into the bathroom at work to use some time soon.

Seven hid primarily in the vents for several days, hoping she was incorrect. Her heart gave a painful throb when Dr. Reid snuck into the bathroom one day, locking the door and pacing around, his shoes clicking against the tiled floor.

Dr. Reid seemed at war with himself, throwing disgusted looks at himself in the mirror and running a hand through his unkept brown hair. He stopped and stared at himself, seeming to steel his will. His hand wandered to his pocket and Seven faintly heard the clink of class vials inside it. Enough.

Seven, expertly quiet, pushed the vent open and eased down onto one of the stalls, onto the toilet tank, and to the floor. Dr. Reid was staring down at his arm where there was a tiny pin prick on his vein. When he looked back up at the mirror Seven was over his shoulder, her masks eyes glinting in displeasure.

Dr. Reid whipped around and nearly shouted, gaping at her as if she were some terrible hallucination.

"I'm here, Dr. Reid," Seven's voice modulator stated. "Although _you_ seem to be tottering on the edge of existence."

He let out a humorless laugh. "You scared me, How did – what are you doing here?"

"Attempting to stop you from falling prey to your addiction."

"No, I meant why are you everywhere we are?"

"…You're a good group of people with powerful enemies. You need all the allies you can get."

"You're talking about the people who sent you to kill J.J?"

Seven glanced down at the vials of dilaudid clutched in Dr. Reid's hands, not answering. "It would be in your best interest to relinquish those to me."

He stuffed his hand in his pocket. "I'm not an addict."

"I know. However, it will be better if you have no means of giving into your temptation. There is no reason to have it in your possession."

"I don't want to hear about 'temptations' or 'sin', Dr. Reid said loudly, pressing his palms to his eyes.

"Dr. Reid."

He dropped his hands and looked at her. She reached out a gloved hand. "Please."

He looked at her hand. "Tell me who's after us."

Seven dropped her hand. "I can't"

"Then I won't give these to you."

"I can very easily take them from you."

"You won't."

Seven's mask stared at him. "If he finds out that you know who he is he will send so many that I won't be able to fend them all off."

"And I won't tell anyone. For that reason."

"…Shefang Osbourne. Don't repeat it."

Dr. Reid studied her. "You're afraid of him."

"I dread the day you find out why." Seven reached her hand out. "I believe we struck a bargain."

Still studying her, Dr. Reid reluctantly reached into his pocket and pulled out two vials. A knock at the door made them jump.

Seven moved to snatch the vials from Dr. Reid's hand, but he opened his mouth to shout, so Seven, alarmed, pushed him against the wall and covered his mouth with her hand.

"Shush!" Seven hissed and Dr. Reid grabbed for her mask. His arms were longer than hers and she tried to wriggle out of his reach while keeping him silent, but he managed to pull it off her, exposing her face.

Seven pushed him flat against the wall, one arm across his collarbone, pinning him.

"Happy?" she whispered.

He shrugged.

"Listen," Seven said, leaning on him slightly for emphasis. "If you attempt to procure more dilaudid I will know. I… am sorry that you are locked in this battle, but I am confident you will be victorious."

The door handle rattled. Seven narrowed her eyes at him. "Yell all you want, but I'll be gone before you unlock the door."

He brought a hand up and placed in on her hand, the gesture making Seven's stomach twist in a way she didn't like. She moved her hand from his mouth a little.

"What?" Seven asked, confused.

"I can help you."

She released the pressure and her grip from Dr. Reid. "I wish that were true. Goodbye."

Seven wrapped an arm behind his back and pulled him close, stuck her hand in his back pocket, making him yelp, and darted back into the vent before he recovered himself.

The next time Seven's hand was forced into action was six weeks after she saved Agent Morgan. This time, thankfully, she was able to help without spilling blood.

The team had gone to Alabama to investigate a series of murders. Their unsub turned out to be a hurt and angry teenager who was collecting the deaths of the schoolmates who had tormented him and his girlfriend. Dr. Reid became cross with his partners, angry at the treatment of the boy and sympathetic to his pain.

Seven trailed behind Dr. Reid, concerned that his emotional response to the case would cause him to put himself in danger to save the boy. Sure enough, 27 minutes past noon there was a stir in the little brick police station she was standing guard on.

The unsub's girlfriend had come to the station, fearing for her safety and those around her, and the boy was coming to say goodbye to her and to kill as many police officers as he could on his way.

Dr. Reid burst through the doors of the station, tossing his gun directly into Agent Morgan's hands, fixated on a figure now stalking down the street.

Seven could see the rage on the boy's face through her scope and felt a twinge of empathy for him. Her empathy wasn't enough to allow him to claim any lives today though, so she was careful to keep him clearly in her sights.

Dr Reid darted toward the boy, defenseless. His body shook with emotion when he spoke and blocked the boy from the guns of his fellows. The boy had to live.

Seven exhaled through her nose and lowered her rifle. Killing a person was far easier than forcing them to live. Seven rooted through her bag, fishing out the last high-powered remote magnet she had stolen from Osbourne's labs. It would be more than sufficient to knock the guns away from the agents by the police station, but she would have to reach the boy before he got spooked and shot Dr. Reid…

Deciding she had to try, Seven tucked her rifle away and dropped the magnet into the group of agents and leapt from the police station roof, rolling to a run.

Dr. Reid saw her first, but didn't look away from the boy, speaking calmly and slowly to him. Close enough now to protect Dr. Reid, Seven triggered the magnet by the agents and confused shouting confirmed that it worked. The boy saw her too late – he didn't have time to raise his gun before she ripped it from his hands and threw it far down the road. An attempt to grab her landed him on his back on the pavement.

The boy screamed in rage as she cuffed his hands behind his back and tossed a bowie knife and two handguns, he had had behind her.

"He was going to shoot you," Seven said, looking up at Dr. Reid accusingly. "And then everyone in the station."

"I had to try…" Dr. Reid quietly replied, glancing down at the boy who was now thrashing in rage.

"Take heart, Dr. Reid. Don't drown in the ocean before you," Seven said, turning to sprint away.

"Seven, listen to me we can help you!" Dr. Reid shouted, grabbing her arm.

Seven tensed, nearly bringing her knuckles across his face in instinct, but stopped herself and ripped her arm from his grasp instead. Choosing now to activate, the electrode in her shoulder sparked to life and Seven gave into a moment of weakness, letting out and involuntary whimper. She cleared her face, but it was too late. He had seen.

A shout from somewhere behind them stirred Seven to life and she sprinted to the motorcycle she had hidden nearby and tore away on it. 3 police cars giving chase, but losing sight of her as she broke through the tree line.


End file.
